


Better

by ForNought



Category: Free!
Genre: Illness, M/M, mentions of diarrhoea, mentions of vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForNought/pseuds/ForNought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke turns up at Kisumi's place (after totally not panicking) for an impromptu visit. Kisumi is sick and Sousuke supposes he might help him out a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

When Kisumi opened his front door his hair was bedraggled and his skin was sallow. After three days of no contact Sousuke was surprised that the cause was probably whatever made Kisumi’s cheeks hollow and his eyes heavy lidded and unfocused. His voice was abrasive as he mumbled, “Why are you here?”

Rather than admit that the growing quantity of ignored messages had slightly worried Sousuke – made him consider that Kisumi was mad at him for not visiting enough for Sousuke to ask for help from Hayato – Sousuke said, “You look terrible.”

Kisumi’s eyes narrowed, focused for the second before he attempted to slam the door shut. There was no strength in his push and Sousuke was quickly able to stop the door closing and he stepped into Kisumi’s home. Kisumi’s legs wobbled as he teetered over to his bed and collapsed with a weak groan.

Sousuke shut the front door with a click and wondered why Hayato hadn’t bothered to warn him about Kisumi’s state. Sousuke dropped his backpack to the floor and ambled over to Kisumi’s bed, pulled up the layered blankets and propped himself on the edge of the bed. “What happened to you?”

“I’m dying.”

“You really stink, you know,” Sousuke said.

Kisumi narrowed his eyes at that, or perhaps they succumbed to the sickly weight that had been bearing down on them, and he huffed as he rolled away from Sousuke. “I’ve decided I don’t want you at my death bed. Go away.”

Kisumi’s limbs were limp enough for Sousuke to lift up his arm without any resistance. Quickly, Sousuke sniffed at Kisumi’s armpit. “I’m serious. Don’t you realise how bad you smell? When was the last time you had a wash?”

“Go away. I can barely stand up.”

Sousuke returned Kisumi’s noodly arm to his chest and rested his chin on Kisumi’s clammy shoulder. “Do you want me to bathe you?”

“You could just go home. In fact, I would welcome the idea,” Kisumi rasped as he burrowed further beneath the covers.   

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I’m not. I’m not happy at all,” Kisumi mumbled into his pillow.

“You’re right. Why would I think you would want to see me after you ignored all my messages?”

Sousuke felt Kisumi’s flinch at that. He sat up and patted Kisumi’s arm through the padding of his blankets.

“Messages?” Kisumi finally asked.

“Yes. That’s our thing. We send each other messages all the time. And I avoid seeing you when I’m being an idiot and you… You are terrifying.”

“I lost my phone the other day. It probably died or something. Can you find it or something?”

“No,” Sousuke said flatly. There were a whole raft of things that needed to be sorted out before Sousuke considered something as small as finding Kisumi’s phone.

 

**To: Hayato**

Kisumi is “dying” apparently. I’ll fix him for you

**From: Hayato**

I am very sad to hear that

**From: Hayato**

I mean the dying

**From: Hayato**

I want you to fix him!!!

**To: Hayato**

I’ll let him know that you don’t care about him

**From: Hayato**

I didn’t mean it, Sousuke-kun!

**To: Hayato**

It’s too late. His heart is already breaking

**From: Hayato**

Roger

 

Sousuke set about making himself useful. He looked through Kisumi’s wardrobe and drawers before he found something old and soft that Kisumi could wear. He wet a flannel and wrung it out before perching on the bed beside Kisumi and slowly pulling away the blankets one by one.  

“Come on, sit up for me,” Sousuke said as he attempted to pry Kisumi from the bed to no avail. “I need to get this T-shirt off you before it fuses to your skin.”

“Why are you so mean?” Kisumi grumbled as he flopped upright for as long as it took Sousuke to yank the overripe cotton from his body. His groan was muted as he eased himself back down and Sousuke tried not to roll his eyes.

Kisumi wore a slackened scowl the whole time Sousuke gently dabbed the flannel across the back of his neck, across the breadth of his back, and under his armpits. Part of Sousuke wondered whether Kisumi was just going along with it because he was too fatigued, weighted with the fug of sickness. He mostly hoped that Kisumi understood that this was for his own good. Whether he could smell himself or not, there was nothing wrong with Sousuke’s nose and he could only assume that the stench emanating from Kisumi’s body was unhealthy.

He already knew manhandling Kisumi into a fresh T-shirt would be a trial so he didn’t expend too much effort once Kisumi’s head was through the hole and his arms were in a position that he could do the rest of the work himself. It was when Kisumi was smoothing the cotton over his stomach that Sousuke spoke again.

“Do you want me to do your bits too?”

Kisumi listlessly batted at Sousuke’s hands, didn’t move much more when Sousuke gripped at his fingers.  

“You’re not funny at all.”

“I’m hilarious,” Sousuke retorted as he leaned in closer. Kisumi huffed and Sousuke tried not to recoil too bodily at the stale breath that clouded the air between them. “Also you need to brush your teeth.”

“Mean.”

“I’m being serious. You keep going on about dying but honestly, if you weren’t being as annoying as usual I would be sure you had already died. That’s how bad you smell.”

Kisumi couldn’t muster his usual strength of retort, simply exhaled a bit harder into Sousuke’s face, stopped breathing altogether when Sousuke’s lips dropped onto the corner of his own. He was almost pouting when Sousuke pulled away. Almost.

“You’re so gross.”

Sousuke could not help but agree that he was gross. Only as gross as Kisumi was, but gross all the same. He did it again, once more pressing his lips to Kisumi’s. He wasn’t gross enough to be fine with Kisumi’s hazed attempt to deepen the kiss or… something. He didn’t particularly want to re-tread old ground that they had gone over seconds ago but it was necessary.  

“Do you need to tell you again about the smell?”

“You kissed me first,” Kisumi groaned.

“You know what, we can sort this mess out later. I’ll get you some water and then you can sleep. Let me know if you need anything,” Sousuke said as he let Kisumi’s fingers slip away from between his own. He folded the flannel and pulled the blankets over the limp twists of Kisumi’s limbs. 

 

 

**To: Gou**

Hey

**From: Gou**

Don’t hey me! Where are you?

**From: Gou**

Your mum told me off for reading magazines without buying any of them

**From: Gou**

Also she knows you give me free stuff sometimes

**To: Gou**

Because you told her

**From: Gou**

I would never admit to such a thing

**To: Gou**

You did it to yourself. So I don’t care

**To: Gou**

And neither does Kisumi

**From: Gou**

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**To: Gou**

What?

**From: Gou**

As nice as it is to hear that you actually spend time with your bf why are you texting me

**To: Gou**

He’s asleep.

**To: Gou**

Apparently he’s dying

**To: Gou**

Also he doesn’t hate me. He didn’t charge his phone

**From: Gou**

Okay

**From: Gou**

Can we do this later? Busy.

**To: Gou**

??????????

 

Gou didn’t respond to that and Sousuke was left wondering what ‘busy’ meant and what else he was supposed to do seeing as Kisumi wasn’t much company. He was snoring quietly on the bed behind Sousuke and even after his walk around the room ten minutes ago him bum still felt numb.

Light sparked across Sousuke’s vision with the sharp conk in the back of his head. He twisted around to see Kisumi gathering himself up, trembling limbs, as he staggered to the bathroom. The retching was near silent and Sousuke was only certain of Kisumi’s state when he heard the meagre contents of his stomach tip into the toilet bowl. Sousuke rubbed at the back of his head and shoved his phone into his pocket.

Very slowly, he stood and approached the bathroom. Kisumi sniffed loudly before moaning. His face was pressed against the cistern when Sousuke braved stepping into the bathroom. He crouched beside Kisumi, stroked sweaty strands from his face.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?”

Kisumi shrugged a shoulder and rubbed at his watery eyes. “What difference would it have made?”

Sousuke could barely recall the last time he was sick. There was nothing that made his past illnesses significant besides his mum taking his temperature, bringing him water and sports drinks, smoothing compresses across his forehead with her chilled hands, and listening to him when he insisted on her writing out his last will and testament.

Having somebody to sympathise usually made all the difference. He could hardly imagine how much more miserable he could have been having to cope on his own, stumbling around for water and being too weak to even consider whether or not he was ready to eat food, let alone make any.

“Someone could have looked after you if they knew you were sick,” Sousuke said softly.

“I need a tissue.”

Sousuke tore some toilet paper from the roll on the holder between them and passed it over. Kisumi took it with trembling fingers and blew his nose on it before wiping at his mouth. He dropped the balled-up tissue into the toilet bowl and sat up against the wall.

“Do you think you’re done?” Sousuke asked. He supposed he was accepting the change of subject for now. He’d wait until Kisumi was feeling a little bit better before he pressed the issue again. Kisumi hesitated before he nodded but Sousuke was quick to reach out to heft him up. The cotton at Kisumi’s underarms felt damp already. “You’re sweating.”

“Yeah.” Kisumi flinched with the slam of the toilet lid and didn’t speak again until the toilet’s flush had silenced. “The vomiting seems to do that to me. A lot of hard work.”

There wasn’t a more perfect time to mention, again, that Kisumi needed someone to look after him. Sousuke was astounded that Kisumi had managed to last this long without any help. The lack of contact might not have been pure stubbornness; Kisumi had let his phone battery die and may well have struggled to locate it and the charger. There was a good chance he hadn’t had the opportunity to ask for help when he realised he needed it. He didn’t even have the opportunity to lament his own expiration, annoyingly and persistently with the ping of incoming messages. Sousuke would have much preferred the torrent of messages about his temperature, and how often he was sick, and obscene descriptions of his diarrhoea that could have prompted Sousuke to come to the city to roll his eyes a lot as he nursed Kisumi back to health.

He didn’t mention any of that though. Instead, Sousuke said, “Let’s get those teeth brushed.”

As simple a task as teeth brushing sounded, Sousuke could not believe how frustrating it was to watch Kisumi’s lack of coordination with tasks as simple as picking up his toothbrush, or uncapping the toothpaste. After Kisumi’s fifth failed attempt to get a grip on the cap of the tube, Sousuke found himself snatching it away from Kisumi’s fragile hold.

“I’ll take care of this. You can just worry about the actual brushing.”

Kisumi didn’t respond. He simply stood beside Sousuke, sallow face down-turned, as he limply held his toothbrush beneath the flow of water that Sousuke was relieved he had thought to turn on prior to the toothpaste struggle.

It quickly became apparent that the actual brushing was too big of a worry for Kisumi to shoulder in his current state. Or he didn’t care much for it. Sousuke waited an appropriate amount of time to at least appear patient. It was a painful wait and he found himself flinching against his own irritation each time Kisumi’s arm flopped down to his side and he blinked down at it in confusion. Sousuke didn’t have to try too hard to pry the toothbrush from Kisumi’s absent grip. Kisumi’s face was vacant as Sousuke held his jaw steady and – very patiently – began brushing Kisumi’s teeth.  

After the arduous task of teeth brushing came the surprisingly easy task of getting Kisumi to take tiny sips of water and tucking him into bed.

“Lie with me.”

There was nothing that sounded as repulsive to Sousuke as getting into bed with Kisumi, clammy, sweaty, pukey as he was. He tucked Kisumi in as well he could and sighed before he climbed on top of the covers next to him.

“Hayato told me he was worried,” Sousuke said quietly.

Kisumi kept his eyes closed but his eyelashes fluttered.

“Is he okay?”

“He was worried about you, stupid.”

“Oh, okay.”

Kisumi hadn’t fallen asleep just yet. His breathing was levelling out and his brow was furrowed slightly. Sousuke rubbed at the creases between Kisumi’s eyebrows before moving his forehead closer to press against the clamminess of Kisumi’s.

“I was worried about you too,” Sousuke added.

He left out the part that he was worried about himself and whatever the thing between them was. They had used ‘boyfriends’ once or twice but aside from that they didn’t talk about it much. Maybe the not talking about it, reconfirming it just to make sure, did have Sousuke worried. It would be so easy to lose contact. For Kisumi to focus on his cosmopolitan life while Sousuke remained a boring memory stuck in the place Kisumi was slowly leaving behind. 

“Hm?”

“I’ll help you find your phone when you’re better, okay?”

“Hmm.”

Kisumi wasn’t asleep just yet. Sousuke decided to wait until he was.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I realised that I had never written a sick!fic or anything like that before. Not until I suddenly got Gastroenteritis and decided it was a good enough idea to try.


End file.
